(you're) like cocaine, basically
by Madame Rhea Di'Ey
Summary: Or, a shitfaced Sasuke finally finds his lost balls and tells Hinata "I love you". That's more or less what happens here. [Enter semi-comedic fluff. Happy SasuHina month y'all.]


**title: **(you're) like cocaine, basically  
**warnings: **language, obviously. like, have you _met_ me? I cuss at the same speed I speak, and son, let me tell you –  
**notes: **SH month be here, and I know we have a theme calendar theoretically _but _I have no idea what to do with artist appreciation and given themes so...yeah, have a thing? kinda mushy, probably sappy, definitely not the angst I usually roll with.  
**notes2: **me SasuHina jimmies be rusty. bear with me.

* * *

Sasuke is decidedly, definitely and irrevocably drunk.

Somehow, that's fucking _neat _and all, but —

Naruto and Sakura had upped and went to fuck-knows-where a while ago (probably the bathroom; those two fucked like rabbits ever since they admitted they dig each other – it was seriously starting to grate on his nerves, hearing them go at it all the damn time), so he was left with, drum roll please, _motherfucking _Hinata Hyūga at the goddamn bar in some shithole of a club.

He is seriously finding it increasingly harder to remain nonchalant, because, _oh. my. __f__ucking. _**_fuck_**_._

That poor excuse of a dress she's wearing should be _illegal._

Sadly, he is not the only who notices it. Which is not surprising, considering the sheer amount of cleavage and legs the thing is showing – how does it even stay on her, _how_ – and the way it wraps around her curves, but still. The question is, what's a terribly irritated and drunk Sasuke to do when some braindead douche hits on the girl he's been crushing on since they were in the third grade?

Step in and start shit up, of course.

"Back the fuck off," he growls at the man, loud enough to be heard over the boom of the music. Hinata turns curious eyes toward him from where she's perched on a stool, and he slings an arm around her shoulders. "Now," he commands, throwing the wannabee thug a cold glare for good measure.

Instead of getting the point, the idiot has the nerve to grin. "Or you'll do what, heh, punk?"

Sasuke is in his face in a heartbeat, a six foot four towering menace. When he throws the first and final punch, his hand doesn't tremble. The douche falls to the floor in a heap, broken nose bleeding.

(you just _don't_ fuck with an Uchiha. especially if it's a drunk, in-love one.)

"Let's go, Hinata," he says, a twitch in his left eye, and shakes his fist clean. He extends his hand for her to take, and helps her off the stool.

The way to the entrance is tricky to make, because there's a suspicious tremor in his knees and the girl's up on nine inch stilettos. There's also assholes, unfortunately, and everytime one dares attempt a pinch at Hinata's ass, Sasuke flips again. By the time they're out the door, there's a trail of bodies sprung randomly behind them.

Wind blows harshly in the humid October night, and he's almost sure it's going to rain; when the girl wraps her arms around her torso in an attempt to chase away the goosebumps the cold air rises across her flesh, he sighs, and peels his jacket off. He holds it up for her to take almost shyly.

Hinata smiles gratefully, and wastes no time in donning it. "Thank you, Sasuke-kun...F-for earlier, too. I could've dealt with it myself, you know, but...um. Thank you."

"I know," he says, and blinks at the silent question her eyes pose. "I know you could have kicked that pig's teeth in. But _I_ wanted to punch him, so I did. You shouldn't have to deal with scum like that. They aren't even worth the beating," he clarifies, slowly, and blames the flush that spreads from his neck to his cheeks on the alcohol in his veins.

Her smile widens at his clumsy word vomit, and it makes him feel like less of a fuck-up. Which, bless her soul, it's exactly what he needed at the moment – some sort of assurance that he hasn't screwed up. At least not yet; he's seeing stars at the edges of his vision, so sooner or later he's gonna do something utterly stupid (which he'll later pretend that _no, _he didn't do), like kiss her.

For twenty minutes. Maybe more. Preferably forever, really –

"Thank you," Hinata says again, and presses her lips against the edge of his jaw. For all intents and purpose, it was a simple, platonic gesture, marginally failed because Sasuke was fucking gargantuan and she barely had her head on shoulder level with him even in those ridiculous pumps of hers, but it _did things _to him.

He almost chokes on the growl that dies at the base of his tongue, and that does him in.

He turns around abruptly until he's face to face with her, and gently grips her chin. "I'm going to do something stupid," he announces, and almost startles himself at the sound of his own voice, "so feel free to hate me." He presses his lips to hers gently, having just about enough control and grace to give her the opportunity to slap him and flee.

But she doesn't, molding into him instead, one hand sneaking up to press into the back of his head and pull him down so she can properly slant her lips over his. In turn, his arms wind themselves around her, underneath the leather of the jacket he gave her a mere minute ago, and glide over the smooth skin of her back. He loses himself in that kiss, because _god_, he's wanted this for _so long_, and she's warm and everything he's ever wanted, half-clothed and smelling of lilac and _him_.

Something possessive hums in his chest, then, and he kisses her more aggressively, fingers denting imprints into her flesh with the intent of branding her as _his_. She responds quite eagerly, the sharp nails of one hand digging into his scalp and puling at his hair lightly while the other is scraping at his back and fisting into the fabric of his shirt.

It's him who pulls back first.

_That kiss was more alcoholic than all the vodka I've ever drank._

"We shouldn't do this," he says, breath heavy, a stupor running through him. He feels suddenly guilty, and doesn't dare to look her in the eye as he speaks. "I'm drunk and dumb and – and _I love you_, but _you _love Naruto, and he's still in a stall with Sakura glued to his front. Or his back, I wouldn't be surprised if they were into that," he rambles.

Getting shitfaced's funny like that: you're aware you're making an ass out of yourself, but you just can't shut your mouth for the life of you.

Instead of slapping him or, or _something _(he isn't quite sure what exactly is he expecting her to do), Hinata surprises him for a third time in a span of roughly ten minutes when she laughs. "If I loved Naruto, would I have kissed you b-back?" she says, one perfectly arched eyebrow challenging and teasing him at once, mirth in the silk of her voice. Lately, all she does sounds like a choir of angels singing some sappy serenade; but then, he's wasted a lot lately, so it might be just the drunk in him going full idiot –

_Whoa. Wait __a minute. _"You don't?"

"No," she says, and shakes her head. "A-actually – I've got quite the crush on you for a while now. You could almost say that..._I love you._"

Her arms are still snug around him, and her face is still very much close to his, and all he can possibly think in his inebriated state is _HinataMineHinataMineHinataMineMineMine. _He dives down and kisses her again, and if the first was all gentle and careful with just a hint of rough, the second is all wet-hot lust. She moans into his mouth, and the only thing he can do is pull back with a growl before he follows Naruto's lead to the bathroom. Actually, since his patience is at its' limit, maybe he'll do it against one of those handy walls –

"Are you sober enough to drive?" he murmurs against Hinata's lips, and she nods her head, not trusting her voice.

Regretfully, he moves one of his hands from her back to his pant pockets to scoop out the keys of his car. She takes them, and they start walking – stumbling – toward the parking lot. "W-what about Naruto and Sakura-chan?" she asks, opening the door on the driver's side.

He shrugs.

"They can walk."


End file.
